I happen to believe we get what we deserve.
—Kevin Spacey, when asked about the 2016 U.S. presidential race
Spacey, who was recently accused of the sexual assault of a 14-year-old (and has been long rumored to have committed similar acts), has made a career of playing complex villains. Reading about the chaotic, horrifically abusive family environment he grew up in—the one that he tried to hide—you can conclude that he “channeled” the evil of his Adolph Hitler-loving father into the roles he played. Frank Underwood. Verbal Kint. John Doe. Lex Luthor. Even the teen-lusting dad from American Beauty.
He was/is a acting genius (indeed, I believe he taught one of those highly-touted online “Acting Master Classes.”)
But as the quote from The Dark Knight goes, “You either die a hero or live long enough to become the villain.”
And now his hit TV show House Of Cards has just been cancelled by Netflix; its sixth season, currently shooting now, will be its last. They insist they were planning on canceling it anyway; now we will be offered the chance to watch the final chapter of former president Frank Underwood’s career as we watch the perhaps final chapter of Spacey’s.
And it’s hard not to see the added parallels of the decline and ending of the Underwood presidency with the current clusterfuck in Washington. Spacey’s fate seemingly weirdly intertwined, in some quantum fashion, with that of Trump’s—as the first Robert Mueller indictments come down at the same time as the Spacey revelations.
Underwood went to the Elysian Fields secret society retreat for the Powerful, based on real-life Bohemian Grove—and now a former Blind Item at a gossip site has revealed that Spacey had actually visited the Bohemian Grove!
Throughout it all is the grander landscape of this Great Revelatory energy that has seemed to sweep our society. Long-time bad operators are suddenly being exposed after decades of highly secretive deeds. It’s something I picked up at the very start of this year…I had termed it an almost “Kali”-like sweep of energy.
I don’t know what the endpoint is to it. It seems to be something still only about a third in, if even that. It is something that seems to be operating as if on auto-pilot; something imploding under its own weight.
It is an awe-inducing, horrible, and perhaps once-in-the-lifetime-of-a-species moment.
And Spacey probably always—deep down—understood his role. For he was the Avatar of that very particular archetype, that same driven, complex, and very dark individual.
More to read about on Butterfly Language:
Observations 10/11/17: Bad Batman
Observations, 9/1/17: Clowns, Crows, Jokers, Robins
The Year Of The Mask